Our Man Jeff
by DSaint
Summary: Amy's imaginary friend, the Raggedy Doctor, wandered into Jeff Angelo's life-and bedroom-and wandered out. He was right, though: Jeff got his pick of jobs after he helped convince world alien experts to upload that virus. The problem is, now that he has the job, Jeff has no idea what he's doing... A look into the life of Jeff Angelo, from "The Eleventh Hour."
1. Our Man Jeff, Part I

**Author's Note: ****As always, thank you to cyanb for being my beta reader.**

* * *

**Part I**

* * *

Jeff Angelo crouched on the sidewalk. His back was pressed to the passenger door of the black SUV. He held tight to the alien pistol.

"What am I doing here?" Jeff asked himself.

He felt more than heard the pound of massive footsteps. Jeff squeezed his eyes shut. It was possible that would save him. Then he fell backwards as the entire SUV was picked up and hurled out of the way. He heard it smash through the front of a shop. Given the area, the SUV probably now sat amongst the shattered remnants of tens of thousands of thousands of dollars worth of antiques.

Jeff opened his eyes and turned his head to look over his shoulder. The creatures hunched a meter behind him. The massive, over-muscled beast spread its mouth impossibly wide and let loose a roar into Jeff's face. He winced and ducked his head. A miasma of foul, hot breath washed over him.

Jeff stood and spun toward the creature. He backpedaled until he slammed back against a wall. He lifted the heavy, blocky pistol and aimed it at the creature. "Now, now, now," Jeff said, "you really don't want to make me shoot you with this." It bared a mouthful of sharp, serrated teeth. "Oh, God," Jeff murmured, "nothing should have that many teeth..."

It stepped forward, using its knuckles to balance. The hands were easily big enough to palm Jeff's head. It growled low in its throat; the sound was still loud enough to vibrate through Jeff's chest. "Uos uognarg uop..."

"I have no idea what that means," Jeff said, "but, but... oh, dammit!" He pulled the trigger on the alien pistol. It kicked in his hand and a hazy sphere of bright energy erupted from the barrel. The sphere hit the alien in the chest and flared.

The alien jerked its head aside, then took a half-step back and laughed. It sounded like a load of wet gravel being crunched up. "Neyna' m èf ak ap a uo lèrf maz." It took a swipe that was like a blur and snatched the pistol from Jeff's hand. "Maz Altairan selbanim." It crushed the pistol in one hand. There was a high whine as the pistol's generator overtaxed, then an explosion of energy that seemed to surprise the alien. It dropped the pistol and shook its hand with a whine, blinking its eyes rapidly.

"Hurt yourself?" Jeff asked. He took a step forward and reached out as if to check the alien's injury. "What am I doing?" he asked, again.

The alien looked at him and growled. The hand it crushed the gun in seemed numb. It reached for Jeff with its other hand. "Uo ezark, larp newm notuob it!"

Jeff tried to look past the alien. He saw the light of dawn beyond the buildings and took a deep breath. "Say goodbye to the last sunrise you'll ever see, Jeff."

The alien growled and looked back to see what Jeff stared at. He jerked his head back from the rosy light. "Uo yèlos nohcidam!" It turned back and pointed a finger at Jeff. "Noum mnem uon uon, nnewj larp newm!" It made a crushing motion with its left hand.

Then it turned and loped off. It squeezed its bulk down an alleyway and vanished from sight.

* * *

"No, sir, it got away."

"Hm." Professor Malcolm Zayne sighed. "Well, I've read your report, Jeff."

Jeff swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." He was a tall, good-looking young man. Yet he could not feel at ease in the presence of his chief. Even the suit and tie he wore made him uncomfortable.

"It seems to me as if you did everything you could, Jeff. Too bad you lost that direct energy stunner, but we have another couple in the archives. And the translator didn't work, eh?"

"No, sir."

Professor Z, as he was referred to by those who worked for him, leaned back in his chair. Jeff tried not to stare at the man. He was a short, stout man; his body was barrel-shaped, and his head was rather oval-shaped. Only the frame-less spectacles and the mahogany color of his skin saved him from the egg comparison. "All right. Well, I want you to head down to medical and get looked over, Jeff."

"Oh, I'm, I'm fine, sir," Jeff said.

"I know you might feel fine, but when dealing with, ah, non-terrestrial threats, we can't take any chances. So, go see the medicos and get looked over. We still don't know what that thing was, or where it originates, so we don't know what it might or might not have that's dangerous to humans."

"It's muscles and teeth seemed dangerous enough, sir. But I'll go see the doctors."

"Good. And make sure you pick up some of the special grenade prototypes we based off the stunners. Maybe they'll work better." Professor Z offered Jeff his best supervisory smile. "Need you to be safe. You are our best man, after all."

* * *

Jeff rode the lift up to level -8. To go up, he had to swipe his security card and use a thumbprint. It was nothing, compared to what it took just to get from the ground floor, above street level, and into the sub-levels. Jeff recalled the security instructions from his first day.

"First, you swipe your mag card," Anya Harding said. "The first tell-tale should turn from amber to green. If it doesn't, you get one more try." She swiped her card and the light changed, as predicted. "Next, comes the palm-print reader. Same story: if the light doesn't change, you get one retry." She pressed her palm to the scanner. A white light ran up and down, and the tell-tale changed. "Retina scanner." She grinned at Jeff; it was a nice smile, he thought, though somewhat self-conscious. "Third verse, same as the first." She bent to peer into the lens with his right eye. When she straightened, the third light was green.

"This seems like a lot to go through," Jeff said, nervous.

"Oh, this is nothing compared to what we used to go through," she said with a laugh. "Okay, last measure: you have to have the password for the day. It will be texted to your issued cellphone at midnight, GMT. Once you open the message, you have thirty seconds to learn the password. Then it erases itself. I think it actually matches your voice print, though." She put her mouth near the microphone. "Reserare." The last light came on, bright green. "It's usually Latin," she said, as the half-meter thick vault door hissed, slid back, and rolled open. "Just because Professor Z got an A-level in Latin at Oxford, and likes to show off."

"Oh. Okay." Jeff felt shell-shocked. He began to follow her through the door.

"Oh, no," she said. She turned and held up a palm. "You have to get in with your own keys, Jeff. No one gets to ride in with someone else." She flashed him another bright smile and tossed her dark hair back from her face. "Enjoy!"

The whole time he went through the procedure that first day, Jeff was certain it would not let him enter. Anya had not explained what happened when you failed the security checks. However, Jeff heard enough vague rumours to know that he did not want to fail.

Now, he stepped off the lift and made his way to the medical section. Jeff was there once before, when he got his physical on his first day. It was no more or less white and sterile than the rest of the building. Which is why Jeff, still not entirely used to the labyrinth of gleaming white halls and rooms, took a wrong turn.

Not paying attention, he swiped his card through a slot and pressed his thumb to the plate. The doors swung open and Jeff stepped through. Head down, he said, "Professor Z told me to see a doctor..."

"I'm the Doctor," a friendly voice said, as a man turned to face him.

Jeff looked up and froze. "Doctor..."

The man was just as Jeff remembered him: shaggy brown hair, boyish face... better clothes, Jeff had to admit, for a certain value of "better." Jeff, personally, never wore a bow-tie in his life, except with a tuxedo. Of course, he never wore a tuxedo.

"Jeff!" the Doctor said, "My best man!"

Oblivious to the fact he stood in the middle of a room that definitely was not part of his workplace, oblivious to how he got there, but faced with the man before him, Jeff could only think of one thing to say.

"Doctor, you have to get me out of here!"


	2. Our Man Jeff, Part II

**Author's Note: ****As always, thank you to cyanb for being my beta reader.**

* * *

**Part II**

* * *

Jeff Angelo leaned against the railing and stared around him. The place he found himself was spacious, but cluttered. It had a sort of odd, vintage feel to it, though there was an odd control console in the middle of the room.

"Jeff, are you in some sort of trouble?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes!" Jeff exclaimed. "I am! And, and, it's your fault, Doctor!"

"My fault?" He looked shocked.

"Yes," Jeff said. He slid down to the floor and rubbed his eyes. "My stomach hurts all the time, I get headaches..."

The Doctor pulled a silvery instrument out of his jacket pocket and flicked his wrist. Tines popped open and a green light came on. It hummed as the Doctor ran it up and down, then held it up to examine it. "Oh, Jeff, you are ill."

"All the time," Jeff said. He let out a low moan and clutched his head. "It's the stress."

"What does all this have to do with me, Jeff?" He asked. He snapped the device closed and slipped it back into his pocket. He dropped down next to Jeff. "Tell me all about it," he said, "the Doctor is in." He folded his hands and looked expectant.

Jeff sighed. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a plastic bottle. He spun the cap open and took a slug. At the Doctor's raised eyebrow, he gestured with the bottle, and said, "Pink bismuth." He recapped it and stuck the bottle in his own pocket. "Okay, you remember that day you came into my bedroom and borrowed my laptop?"

"Yes, of course. Had to deal with the Atraxi."

"That's just it. You remember what you told me that day..."

"To erase your internet history?"

"No! I mean, yes, and thanks, that was good advice." Jeff wiped his palms on his trousers. "But... you told all those alien experts that I was your best man. You told me that after it was all over, I would have my pick of jobs; that first, I had to be brilliant."

"Of course." The Doctor gave him a broad grin. "And you were brilliant, Jeff. You were!"

"And that's just it, Doctor: I'm not!" Jeff gave him a bewildered look. "But because of you, because of what I did that day, for you, everyone, all those important people, thought I was brilliant. They still do.

"Doctor, they offered me a job. Professor Z showed up in Leadworth one morning and told me that I came highly recommended. He said he wanted me for his team. He offered me so. Much. Money. And private insurance. It even covered my grandmother. I couldn't say no.

"But I'm useless, Doctor! I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, Professor Z keeps sending me out to handle these alien encounters, and I just muddle along, doing my best to try to figure it out. I've gone on five cases, so far."

"How did you do?"

"Took care of them all."

"That's great, though!" The Doctor patted him on the shoulder.

"It wasn't me. It was just, I don't know, blind luck. I sort of go along, follow the clues and things fall into place. But it isn't me doing it, I'm not a detective, or an alien expert, or one of those Torchwood people. I'm just me: Jeff Angelo from Leadworth.

"Every day, I wonder when they're going to figure me out. Every day, I wonder when Professor Z is going to show up with the security personnel and tell me, 'this is it, Jeff, it's all over, we know you're rubbish, and it's over for you, lad.'"

"Does he really talk like that?" the Doctor asked, surprised.

"No." Jeff hung his head. "It really will be over for me, though. This last alien I was supposed to deal with is huge, and muscular, and had a mouthful of sharp teeth, and..."

"What?" the Doctor asked. He gaped at Jeff. "Say that again?"

"Um..." Jeff shrugged. "Huge, muscular, sharp teeth..."

"Anything else?"

"I don't think he likes sunlight."

"Oh. Oh, no." The Doctor jumped to his feet. "This could be bad, this could be very bad."

"You're telling me," Jeff said. He gave a weak chuckle.

The Doctor ran over to a floor panel and drew it aside, then bent and grunted as he dragged a large trunk out of the recess. It was a big thing of leather and brass, like something Jeff's grandfather might have brought back from the second World War, with all his possessions in it. He flicked the latches and tossed the lid open, then began to sort through the things it contained.

"Where is it, where is it... here!" He pulled out a massive leather tome. He brought it back over to Jeff and sat down cross-legged in front of him. The book was worn and tattered. When the Doctor opened the thick leather cover, dry, yellowed pages were revealed.

"What is it, Doctor?" Jeff asked.

"An old bestiary from the thirteenth century, German. Das Buch von Unnatürlichen Biester. In those days," the Doctor said as he flipped through pages, "people believed in all sorts of monsters and creatures and things that crawl and go bump in the night... of course," he said, as he glanced up with a thoughtful look on his face, "while many of them were only monsters of the imagination, as it were, some were actual monsters. Or rather, aliens that were so different to what humans knew, that they seemed to be monsters.

"Some were, of course. Alien monsters, but monsters, nonetheless." He went back to searching through the bestiary. "Ah. Like... this one, for instance." He turned the book so that Jeff could see it. "Look familiar?"

"Oh!" Jeff jerked back, then took a deep breath. He leaned in to look at the sketches in the book. "Der Geimansame Troll," he read from the illuminated page.

"Yes," the Doctor said. "The common troll." He shook his head. "I wonder what they thought an uncommon troll would look like."

"What is it, though? It looks just like that alien I was chasing."

The Doctor sighed. "A Shallarite. From a rather inhospitable world way out on the end of the spiral arm. Imagine a shark, in humanoid form and adapted to life on land, and given a certain amount of intelligence. Strong, fast, ravenous." He snapped the book closed.

"You have that right," Jeff said. "We tracked it down because it ate..." He paused and looked down. "It ate some people."

"And the strength and speed?"

"It picked up my SUV and threw it across a street. And it snatched a gun out of my hand so fast I didn't see it move."

"A gun?" the Doctor asked. He gave Jeff a disappointed look.

"They assigned it to me," he said. "It wasn't a real gun, anyway. It was some sort of alien stunner. All it does is knock people down and daze them. It didn't do anything to that... what, Shallarite? It didn't bother him at all, though. Except when he crushed it in his hand and destroyed it. I think that numbed his hand." Jeff heaved a deep sigh. "The only reason he didn't kill me is that the sun came up."

"Yes," the Doctor said. His tone was thoughtful. "Shallar Prime is a very dark world. Thick atmosphere, high gravity, perpetual cloud cover. Not a lot of sunlight to get through, and what does come through is very dim. Shallar's star is a dim white dwarf. I imagine Earth's sun is much too bright for the Shallarite's comfort." He returned the book to the trunk and dropped the lid.

"You said it could be very bad, Doctor," Jeff said. "Those were your exact words."

"Yes." The Doctor leaned back against the console. "You see, Shallarites aren't just ravenous. They never stop eating. They just eat and eat and eat, until they get eaten by something else."


	3. Our Man Jeff, Part III

******Author's Note: ****As always, thank you to cyanb for being my beta reader.**

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

Jeff looked around the street. The sun was low in the sky; it was about eight in the morning. The Doctor had used his amazing blue box to transport them to the spot where Jeff faced the alien just a couple hours before. "There's where it tossed my SUV."

The Doctor looked over to the shop. The police were still examining the scene, and bystanders stared and gossiped. "Where were you parked?" he asked.

Jeff pointed. "Right there."

"How much would you say that vehicle weighed?"

"Two tonnes, two and a half, maybe."

"And he threw it almost ten meters. No small task."

"You said Shallar Prime had a high gravity. So his muscles would be adapted to that, right? He would be even stronger on Earth than on his home world."

"Very good," the Doctor said with a smile. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

"What?" Jeff asked.

"Nothing." The Doctor crossed back to Jeff. "Did you see which way he went?"

Jeff walked over to a spot on the sidewalk. "I was right here. He was... hulking, there, in front of me. He talked, but I don't know what he said, the translator they gave me didn't work on him. I think he went..." He turned to his left. "That way, down the alley." The Doctor pulled out his device again and snapped it open. It lit up and hummed. "Professor Z would probably love to have one of those," Jeff said with a weak grin."

"I'll just hold onto my sonic screwdriver, thank you."

"I wouldn't try to take it, Doctor!" Jeff protested.

"I know, Jeff. You're a good man."

"'Our man Jeff,'" Jeff said. He sighed. "That's what Professor Z calls me. That and, 'our best man.'"

"You don't like being his best man, Jeff?" The Doctor consulted his screwdriver.

"I told you before, Doctor, I'm not. Not anyone's." Jeff stared at him with anguish in his eyes.

The Doctor lowered his arm and walked over. "Jeff. This really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Being a fraud? Waiting to be found out?"

"You don't understand, though," the Doctor said.

"What do you mean?"

"Jeff," the Doctor said, then he paused. "This way, I think. Follow me."

* * *

Following the Doctor was how Jeff found himself in an old, abandoned warehouse. They were a couple of blocks away from the street where the Shallarite had nearly killed Jeff. The Doctor looked around the dusty building with a torch Jeff had given him. It was a small, powerful light, and he swept it back and forth.

"He's been lairing here," the Doctor said, "that's for certain."

"Shouldn't there be, I don't know, bones, or things?"

"You know how they say that certain native American tribes used every part of the buffalo?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes?"

"The Shallarite eats every part of its victim. Skin, bones, organs. The whole works."

"I wish you hadn't said that," Jeff said.

"Sorry."

"So why isn't it here now? It's daylight, if it sleeps during the day it should be here, right?"

"Yes, yes, it should. That worries me. It means it might have found itself another place to sleep." He drew up short. "Or."

"Or?"

"Ooooor," the Doctor said, "it might be adapting to the light. Shallarites adapt quite quickly."

"I really wish you hadn't said that."

"I could be wrong," the Doctor said. He continued to search. He had the torch in one hand and the sonic screwdriver in the other.

"Are you often wrong, Doctor?"

"Not very often, no."

Jeff stood in the middle of the warehouse and turned in place. "So, I'm a massive alien on another planet. I'm a shark on legs. I eat and I eat and I eat. But I sleep during the day, because I don't like the sun. So why I would I go out at all?"

"Hm?" the Doctor glanced back at him. He returned to poking in a corner. There was a pile of rubbish thrown there. Old refuse someone abandoned, long ago.

"Sometimes," Jeff said, and his words were slow and thoughtful, "sometimes, I'm tired, when I head home at the end of the day. Exhausted from chasing aliens and getting my SUV thrown across the street. But in spite of all that, I get almost all the way home and I'm hungry. Starving, in fact. Like the danger makes the appetite kick in. All I want is a kebab, or a bowl of noodles.

"So no matter how tired I am, I go out for something to eat." He stopped and looked over at the Doctor. "I'm too worn out to stop at a restaurant, though. So I just hit a take-out place and bring it..." Jeff stopped talking and turned toward the sound of an old wood pallet falling. "Er," he said.

"What? You take it 'er?'" The Doctor turned as well. He straightened. "Oh."

In a gaping hole in one wall, the Shallarite hunched. In one massive hand it held the body of a large dog. "Barizedne etivne?" It laughed that laugh, again.

"Home," Jeff said, mouth gone dry. "I take it home."


	4. Our Man Jeff, Part IV

******Author's Note: ****As always, thank you to cyanb for being my beta reader.**

* * *

**Part IV**

* * *

"Hello," the Doctor said. He put the sonic screwdriver back in his pocket and aimed the torch away from the alien. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, I'm the Doctor, this is Jeff, I believe you've met."

It dropped the dog carcass and roared, mouth split wide. All those teeth spread out in a flared circle that looked like it could bite a hole in the world.

"I don't think it really cares who we are, Doctor." Jeff took a step back.

"Slowly, Jeff," the Doctor said. "Shallarites can sense movement better than anything."

The alien moved forward, moving its head back and forth. "Nas erf... tnas narp newm..." It sniffed.

"Don't worry," the Doctor said quietly, "it's just playing with us."

"And that's supposed to be something I don't worry about?"

"He can't really smell our blood, I mean," the Doctor said.

"What?"

"When he said he could smell our blood," the Doctor took a slow cautious step back. "He just said that to scare us. His senses of smell and hearing are very poor. We would have to be actively bleeding for it to smell our blood."

"Wait, you can understand him?"

"I speak Shallarite. I speak everything."

"Can you talk to him? Convince him to go somewhere besides Earth?"

"Oh." The Doctor straightened. "I guess I can try." He deepened his voice. "Lega, mók uon. Uop uojnob eyov uon adlòs naynav uojnob."

The laugh sounded again. It took a step forward and turned its head back and forth slowly. "Uo oz ejnam uo òk dar erihc larp newm."

"I'm sure he was just making a little joke," the Doctor said.

"What did he say?" Jeff asked.

"It wasn't really all that funny," the Doctor said. "Just keep moving very slowly, Jeff. Very, very slowly, toward me."

"Why?" Jeff asked as he took another slow step backward. "Is there a door behind you?"

"Um, no, I just thought being closer together might be... safer. Now that I think about it, that's really a terrible idea." The Shallarite took another few steps, fast. Jeff jumped. With a roar, the alien surged at him. "Duck!" Jeff dove to the ground and the Shallarite passed over his head. He scrabbled forward as it struck the ground and spun, leading with a backhand. The fist cut the air over Jeff's head. "Freeze!" the Doctor whispered.

Jeff went still. His heart hammered in his chest and he fought to take quiet breaths. The Shallarite shuffled around on the spot. "Deplase," it said, "mwen bay gabèl ou."

"Jeff," the Doctor whispered, "in a moment, I am going to move very quickly for the door."

"What should I do?" Jeff whispered back.

"You should wait until he chases me, then go out that window. And run. Run very fast."

"Doctor," he said, "what will happen to you?"

"I strongly suspect that he will tear me limb from limb. But you will have time to get away and get help."

"Help? Doctor..." Jeff went silent as the Shallarite stepped toward him, then paused and turned slightly toward the Doctor. "What help? The Center is supposed to deal with things like this, but do you know what our back-up plan is? Our entire back-up plan?"

"What is it, then?" the Doctor asked. He moved one foot forward and settled himself. He was prepared to run.

"Try to signal the Doctor."

"Oh." The Doctor looked surprised. "That's very, um, flattering."

Jeff took a deep breath. He rose to his feet as slow as possible. "Doctor, I think we should go with the first part of your plan. With a little bit of modification."

"What?"

Jeff slipped his hand into jacket and drew out a pair of spheres. "You stay very, very still. I'm going to run." He flipped open a hatch on one of the spheres and hit a button. He dropped the hatch again and it began to whine.

"Jeff, it will tear you apart."

"I hope not." He performed the same maneuver on the other sphere. "But I have to be brilliant, don't I?"

"Jeff, what are you..." Jeff surged forward. He heard the Shallarite take off behind him. "No!" the Doctor shouted. "Jeff, watch out!"

Jeff spun and faced the Shallarite. The alien reached for him, its mouth spread and teeth out. Jeff shoved the whining spheres into the gaping hole of its maw. He jerked his hand back just before the teeth clamped down on his wrist. "Doctor, get down!" He threw himself flat to the concrete floor.

* * *

"The science division spent hundreds of man-hours, researching the alien direct energy stunner pistols. They wanted something more powerful, an area-effect device that could put out a high level of debilitating energy. To let us take down groups, or... well, large aliens... without killing them. The pistol just wasn't powerful enough."

"But how did you know the grenades would be?" the Doctor asked Jeff.

He shrugged and stared into his teacup. "The other time, when I shot it with the stunner, it didn't really bother it, but I could see it bothered it. And when it destroyed the gun, the light and energy from the overload really seemed to surprise and hurt it."

"Sensitive to light," the Doctor said.

"Yeah." Jeff drank tea and set the cup back down. "So I figured the grenades, much more powerful and applied, um, directly, would maybe put it down."

The Doctor grinned. "Amazing. Brilliant, brilliant old Jeff."

"No, I was lucky. I couldn't have done it, without you."

"Nonsense." He checked off points on his fingers. "You understood why it was so strong and fast. You figured out he was out getting... take-out, you figured out how to stun it so we could transport it safely to your Center." He paused. "You promise they won't harm it, yes?"

Jeff grinned. "Doctor, you really do see the best in everything and everyone, don't you? Even me."

"Jeff. I know you think that you're a fraud and that sooner or later, you'll be found out. But you don't realize something very important. That day, when I needed you to convince the alien experts to disperse the virus, when I told you to be brilliant."

"Yes?"

"You were brilliant. I didn't do anything. You convinced those people to do what they needed to do. You got the job afterwards. You handled those five other cases on your own. And you defeated the Shallarite on your own."

"You told me what it was, Doctor. 'The common troll.' Told me its weaknesses."

"Jeff. Jeff, brilliant Jeff, the good-looking one, Jeff. I didn't tell you anything you couldn't have figured out on your own. You are brilliant. You will always be brilliant, Jeff." He stood up and walked towards the blue box. "You succeeded that time, you succeeded all the other times, you succeeded this time, because of that one fact." He unlocked the door and started in, then stopped. "You know I keep coming to this pretty little world, and I keep defending it."

"You keep the Earth safe, Doctor."

He shook his head. "I never do it alone, Jeff. I always have people, brilliant people, with me. People like you." He walked inside and turned. "And you humans, you brilliant people, you always come through. That's what I love about you all." He swung the door shut.

Jeff sat and stared into his tea for a moment. Then he jumped up and ran over to pound on the door of the box. "Doctor! Doctor!" He stepped back as the Doctor opened it again.

"Hm?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Doctor." Jeff shook his head. "Be honest. All that stuff I figured out. You knew all along, didn't you?"

The Doctor gave him another grin. "That would be telling," he said. He waved and closed the door again. Jeff stepped back.

The light atop the box pulsed and a strange, up and down howling sound echoed in the empty cafe. The box faded from view and revealed the wall behind it. Jeff turned back to the elderly woman who sat behind the counter. He gave her a weak smile. "Uh, nice day, isn't it?" She shrugged.

Jeff walked back to the table, picked up his cup of tea, and lifted it to his mouth. He paused. "The good-looking one?"

* * *

"What about this Jeff Angelo?" asked Jack Harkness. The handsome American in the greatcoat leaned back in his chair. He glanced through the folder he held.

"What about him?" asked Professor Z. He lifted an eyebrow.

"What does he do?"

"Handles alien investigations, of course." Professor Z chuckled.

"Any good?" Jack asked, casual.

"Very." Professor Z gave him a narrow look. "Why do you ask?"

Jack shrugged and gave him a bright grin. "If he's as good as you say, I might be able to use him for Torchwood."

"Ha!" The other man leaned back in his own chair and shook his head. "You can't have Jeff, Captain." He clasped his hands across his belly. "He's brilliant. My best man."


End file.
